


born kiiiller, -born thriller !!!

by Th3gab3



Category: Hiveswap, Homestuck
Genre: Abuse, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Drabble, F/F, One Shot, Quadrant Confusion, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, please someone give ardata a fucking hug, that someone being lynera
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-12
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-10 17:25:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15954050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Th3gab3/pseuds/Th3gab3
Summary: In which Ardata Carmia kills her abusive lusus and then proceeds to have a meltdown and almost kill herself until her matesprit, Lynera Skalbi, comes in at the last moment and helps her, because what better help for a broken and lonely girl is there than another broken and lonely girl?ATTENTION!!!!! HEAVY WARNINGS FOR THE FOLLOWING TOPICS: Abuse, Mental breakdowns/meltdowns, self harm and suicide ideation, and a lot of blood. Like so much blood a hero of blood would be like "fucking calm down dude"Minor warning for: Emetophobia for a small bit and some gore





	born kiiiller, -born thriller !!!

**Author's Note:**

> Born different  
> Born innocent  
> Born perfect  
> I'm not like you, I'm a...  
> Born lover  
> Born livid  
> And I know, I'm  
> I'm not like you, I was...  
> Born clever  
> Born knowledgeable  
> Born better than your best  
> I swear I'm a born killer  
> Born thriller
> 
> -Drill Queen, Born Depressed

Fed until she was twice her size.

Wanted more.

Fed until they were sucked dry.

_Wanted more._

Not good enough today, Ardata.

 _Wanted._ _**More.**_

She wanted blood. You gave her blood. Gave her more blood than you know what she could do with. Gave her so much blood that a rainbow drinker would be envious. 

She still wanted more. More blood, more creative shows, more screentime, more,  _more, **more.**_

Not enough blood today, Ardata, need more blood, Ardata, you know what that means, Ardata.

You don't even flinch anymore. Not enough today, she draws from you. Not enough today, forces you to cut yourself open and lay your wounds bare, lest she do it herself and leave you crying, begging within an inch of your life. (You still don't know if you're begging for mercy or for her to finish you off. It's interchangable at this point.) You've even resorted to cutting yourself up every morning in hopes that it will sate her.

It never works.

At least the pain is physical. At least you can see the scars, feel them as they scab over and leave pale marks over your flesh. 

Not like the fear that has dug itself into your very core. Not like the constant fear of her killing you her damn self. Not like the constant knowledge that if you dare give this up, it'll mean being a pariah, constant torture from her until she finally ends you. Not like the constant need to make a show every day for thousands of adoring fans, strangers behind faceless monitors who know nothing of your plight, only wanting to see the death of faceless lowbloods. It's become as routine in your life like breathing, eating, sleeping, and bleeding.

Somedays, you wish you were in the position of the random, faceless rustblood victim that you were about to murder in a way that shouldn't be allowed in this world, nay, this reality.

You also wish your lusus would feel something else other than an insatiable gluttony for blood and endless contempt for you.

But it's a fat load of good that wishing has done for you.

But something else has lodged itself inside your mind, digging in like a tick and refusing to leave, neighboring with the fear you know all to well. Misery loves company after all.

Rage. Anger. Hate. A dark, unwavering fire that threatens to burn into an unstoppable inferno that swallows your life whole, taking everything you know down with it. You feel it every day, and you pray that one day, it will finally turn the planet into a pile of cosmic ash in a brilliant supernova flare of your anger.

For now you settle on driving the knife deep into the poor yellowblood's skull, a final dance of sparks illuminating the rest of the block before it all falls silent, save for your heavy breathing, the wet  _shlink_ of the blade as you pull it out, and your lusus scuttling over for her new meal, even though she looks like she will burst into a rainbow of warm colors, painting you and your kill-block several disgusting shades of murder.

Good. You hope she fucking pops like a squeakbeast.

She doesn't. You aren't surprised. What does surprise you is when she, for once in her horrid existence, says she's satisfied as you bow to your audience and go to turn off your streaming and recording equipment. You pause for a second, wondering if you should ask the audience if they heard that. You know they wouldn't have, only a charge can understand their lusus. That or a talented bronze.

It's besides the point. Her?  _Satisfied?_ You wouldn't believe it if she hadn't said so herself.

You ask her if she means it, voice stoic and and calm to the untrained listener. Under the mask, you know all you feel right now is a strange cocktail of hope, confusion, and obviously, fear.

She replies that, yes, you made a much better meal this time. The yellow was particularly tasty.

You're still standing there, standing wide-eyed in disbelief. You didn't know how to handle this. The stream is still going and from the corner of your eye you can see the chat scrolling by, confused and curious.

Then she speaks again. You're not sure exactly what she said. You were too busy listening to the blood rushing in your ears, the slow cracking of glass, the silence.

It might've been her taking it all back. It might've been her actually complimenting you again. It might've been an apology.

It might've been a taunting voice that told you that next time, dear, make it last longer at least. This isn't amateur hour.

It's silent for exactly three seconds, before you hear a sharp snap, the sound of paper being torn in two, the stamp onto a seal, the glass finally breaking.

It was you, and it was official.

You broke. Snapped. Lashed out. Any term you could've used. It happened. You were finally fed up with her.

Underneath it all, hidden in what might've been praising, scolding, or taunting, you could hear it.

The need. The want. The unending black hole of her greed. The thirst for more blood.

And you heard it speak, not in her voice, her chitters and clicks and other strange noises you always understood, but in someone else's.

Someone you knew was always there, waiting for you to finally listen.

You heard yourself. You were calling for blood. More of it. All of it. Raining down upon you, drowning you, painting you until there was no cerulean, was no Ardata Carmia, just you. Just you and all the blood you have spilled.

It wasn't  _her_ that wanted blood. It was you. And she's so fucking full of it. She's struggling to move her pathetic fucking body over the weight of her own sin.

You understand why she loved the taste of blood now, but you're absolutely sure that what you're tasting isn't the same as what she did. She always fed on what was given to her on a silver platter.

You? You fucking  _earned_ this. Earned kicking her over and ignoring the cries of irritation and confusion. Earned stabbing the knife into her bulging bloodsac. Earned the spray of life that splattered and sploshed all over you. Earned every single pained scream as you stabbed, and stabbed, and stabbed, and stabbed, until you were stabbing nothing but the ground and bloody chunks. Earned  _this._

You realize now what you're tasting isn't blood. It's not a cocktail of reds and yellows with a very special jade mixed in. It's one thing. Pure and simple.

**_Revenge._ **

And it tastes  _fucking delicious._ Your clothes are soggy, dripping with the blood as you stand, the warm colors burning your skin, coating the ceiling and parts of the walls in random puddles and splotches.

You turn towards the camera, smile, and bow once more, thanking your loyal viewers for joining you in this extra special episode.

The stream goes offline. Your breathing is the only thing you hear besides the gentle drip of blood. You turn from the equipment and look at the remains of your lusus. You no longer hear the bloodthirst. No longer feel the adrenaline and the rage and the overflowing feeling of ecstasy of revenge. The blood covering you suddenly feels smothering. You feel sick.

Next thing you know it's all a downward spiral. Curled up alone on the bloodstained floor, pile of sick smushing against your cheek and getting in your hair as you rock back and forth, tears flowing like a waterfall as you scream, because it's all over now. Your abuse, your torment, your  _life as you fucking know it_ is over. It's only a matter of time before some lucky competition calls the drones to your hive and you're culled on sight because not only are you without a lusus, but you  _fucking murdered her you fucking moron. She was the only thing keeping the god damn murder machines off your ass, but you just had to go and fuck up that, didn't you?_

You spot the knife laying next to you through your tears and suddenly, it all becomes clear. Your time was up. This is how it was supposed to end in the first place. Just you, your sins, and the chance to finally fucking end it all. It's colored all strange and mixed, so why not give it a new color? Make it spill blood that deserves to be spilled. Now, instead of slicing up your arms and your wrists for  ** _her_** , you can do it for yourself, you selfish piece of shit. Selfish, greedy, worthless motherfuckers aren't deserving of living.

The cerulean mixes in nicely with all the other colors.

You like watching it flow down your arms and drip down onto the floor. 

It tells you how it's all going to end. How it's all over. You don't have to worry anymore. It's all going...

Going...

_Going..._

But it's not gone yet. Not until the world fucks you over one last time as you here a knock on your door. Awfully polite for drones to knock, though you know they'll burst in open in a second and hunt you down. You're waiting for it. Can't do much of anything else. 

It's not a drone that greets your fading vision, however. It's the frozen form of your matesprit.

One horrified Lynera Skalbi.

You let out a pathetic laugh, knowing your last moments on Alternia are spent mentally scarring your heart, the one person who truly fucking cared for you.

It all goes black as she steps forward, no doubt calling your name.

 

 

_The afterlife is like your dreams._

_A kingdom of darkness and skepticism. A place where you're more likely to be stabbed then told what the fuck is going on. You've gotten used to it, especially since you're the odd one out, wearing strange purple and pink pajamas compared to the drab black robes that blend with the carapace of the native creatures._

_You know nothing about this kingdom. Know nothing about why you always had such vivid dreams of it, nor why it seemed to be your place of rest. You guess you can get used to it._

_Still doesn't change the fact that you're confused as hell. But when the fuck has life ever explained why it was the way it was to you?_

_That's right, never._

_You are finding it very easy to accept that things just happen. They have happened, will happen, and will always happen and you have no choice but to go along with the ride. Just like how you suddenly feel like you're waking up again._

_That's impossible though. You died, right in front of your matesprit._

_Right?_

 

 

The green of sopor is a familiar sight that you really didn't think you would see ever again. 

You don't feel relieved. It just means that it was all some dream. Something that kept you from the kingdom for whatever reason. Probably because you performed a subpar show or something like that. A delirious, near death dream of revenge. 

It's funny. It felt real enough you can almost still taste the blood that cascaded upon you.

No time to reminisce, though. Today is real and today is another day of pain. That will be an undeniable fact until you finally get sent off planet. Might as well get up and face the music. You move to get out of your coon-

And bump into the wall.

That's...strange. You guess you just kicked around too much somehow? Whatever. No time to waste. You reorientate yourself and get out-

Only to bump into another wall.

What.

Did someone pull a prank on you and tip over your fucking coon? You feel around blindly until your hand pops out of the entrance. Following that, you emerge from the slime and see...

That this is  _not_ your hive. At all.

What 2x combo.

This is...Lynera's dorm. You're currently in the brooding caverns, where she lives.

If you're here then...

_Then..._

**_Shit._ **

Before you can even think about panicking again, the door to her hive opens and she walks in, somehow not noticing you. She has a bag in her hands, which looks like a bag full of little candy eyeballs.

You love those things.

You take a deep breath and exhale loudly, startling Lynera, before taking in everything that has happened so far.

You, Ardata Carmia, snapped after your lusus made a snarky comment which finally drove you over the edge. This in turn caused you to murder her which then caused you to freak out after realizing how much you fucked up. You then nearly killed yourself before your matesprit, Lynera Skalbi, arrived and...managed to drag you all the way to the caverns before you bled out, you guess.

How did she know to come over?

Oh, right, you sent her a text before the show to come around at a certain time. The streams never lasted more than 5 hours or so, so you decided to plan ahead considering the distance to your hive and the caverns. You then focus your surprise and confusion to how the hell no one stopped her, considering a Jade carrying around a Cerulean corpse, even if said corpse was covered in various hues of blood, isn't exactly a common and socially acceptable-

Fuck, she's crying.

"-and dear  _gog_ there-there was blood e-everywhere, Ardata! Seeing _you_ a-and all that _blue_ mixing in w-with...with everything else, I almost...!"

Fuck, you did this.

Idiot.

Your dear beloved matesprit, crying rivers of jade sorrow over you.  _You_ , of all people. You, because you made the worst mistake in your life. You, because you tried to make yourself pay.

You.

She deserves better. So much better than you.

All you can do is laugh. Laugh over how fucking pointless it all is as she just continues falling down into hysterics.

She's losing her fucking mind and crying her heart out for you and all you can do is...laugh?

Everything about it only makes you laugh even fucking harder. Naturally, she's confused, taking a moment between her rambling to stare at you, most likely thinking you've gone insane. You're absolutely sure you already have.

"Ar...Ardata? Please dear, wh-why are you laughing? Please snap out of it! Ardata you're s-scaring me, even more so than before! Please Ardata, darling, speak to me!"

You finally manage to calm down, hanging your head over the rim of the recuperacoon and looking at your arms dangling below you, all bandaged and healing.

"What is there to talk about? Ardata Carmia is dead, can't you see? I'm just the poor soul that has to inhabit this dead troll walking until the drones finally put her down. I'm a troll condemned." You reply, feeling as hollow as the words you speak. It's true isn't it? Your life is basically over, nothing can change that.

"Ardata  _please_ _!_ Don't say things like that! Just tell me what happened, it's all I want to know...when I saw you, covered in blood and so c-close to death I... _I...!_ " She's so close to crying another waterfall again. It tears you up even more than you tearing apart your lusus to see her like this, only amplified by a thousand knowing you are what caused it.

Her crying because of you has got you crying now, even though you have nothing to cry for.

This world has hurt the both of you irreparably. You are both products of a terrible, terrible world full of terrible people and all you have is each other.

It's hard. It's hard and no one understands.

No one except...her.

And that's why she's your matesprit. You nearly left her alone in this world, this world that would've brought her down into a harsh, unforgiving grave. The thought of her crying alone, with no one to comfort her, when that someone could be you. That's why you're crying. Because the thought of her dealing with this hell all alone is too much to bear.

So that's why you cry together, embracing each other in a quadrant smearing hug of pure  _love._ It's red and pale and so  _alien_ but you just. Don't fucking care. It's filled with love, love for  _her_ , for  _Lynera Skalbi_ , because there's no love for her in this world, no love for you in this world, so two unloved beings must love each other.

It only makes sense to you.

It's the only thing that has made sense to you in your life.

And for once, you're okay with it.

 

 

It's almost three hours later when you spill everything to her. She had wrapped you in the fluffiest blanket she had, made you a cup of heated sweet cocoa-candy, and gave the bag of little eye-candies, which you had wolfed down in a second. You feel...calm. Safe. Better. Loved, obviously.

It's more than you ever felt at your own hive.

She had listened intently, hanging onto every word. You told her everything from the beginning, from your lusus making you "work" since you were able to walk and talk, to when you murdered her and then almost murdered yourself, realizing the drones would come for you anyways. By then end, the cup is drained, you're gripping the blanket to tightly you think you've made some scratches in it, you're shaking like a leaf in a storm, and you're just waiting for her to tell you...something. You don't expect it to be good.

Instead, she hugs you tightly once more, which you immediately return, burying your face in her shoulder, already feeling sobs bubble up from your throat.

"Oh darling...shhh, shhhh...it's alright now, shhhh, I'm here, Ardata...it's alright..." She isn't quite shooshing you, but she is papping your back. Again, it's a strange combination of pale and red that you would kill your lusus again and again to keep feeling. You think you're just gonna call it "true love," because it sure as hell feels like it.

"Is it really? You out of anyone should know what happens to trolls without lusii...I'll be lucky if I last the wipe, Lynera." You finally manage after pulling yourself together. "I have nowhere to hide, nowhere to go. If the damned drones don't get to me on their own, then certainly the competition will make sure they do, or just hunt me down themselves. I'm...I'm done for Lynera."

"Ardata Carmia, you listen to me right now. I will not let anyone or anything lay a single finger on you, be it troll, drone, or even yourself, should something like that happen. Besides, I have plenty of experience...ridding of trolls myself." Oh, right. Her fierce and dangerous obsession with that other jade. "Besides, I have a plan."

"You...you do?"

"Yes! Well, more like I  _stole_ a plan, but it was made by your lusus and I just tweaked it some to make sure that it's basically mine now. She had a surprising amount of plan B's..."

That would make sense. Even by Alternian standards, what you were doing wasn't exactly legal. Just by being associated with the Dark Web could land you in seriously hot water, seeing as it was the same place that held highblood snuff channels, where particularly brave (or stupid) lowbloods would go and kill highbloods, and not to mention all of the Signless worshipers that populated it, ironically.

"All you need to know is that I  _promise_ it will all be okay, my dear. Everything is going to be just fine." She takes your hands into hers and kisses you softly, looking into your eyes with such devotion and caring you think you might cry again. "I love you, Ardata."

You said you didn't deserve her. Part of you still believes it. But you know better.

This world doesn't deserve either of you.

"I love you too Lynera, forever and always."

Who else can find love in a loveless world, than two unloved victims of it?

**Author's Note:**

> Lyndata is like. Good actually


End file.
